Black Light
by Imuthis
Summary: AU Chapter 3 A taste of things to come...
1. Chapter 1

**Black Light**

Imuthis

DISCLAIMER: This fan fiction is loosely based on the movie, The Wraith, which starred then up-and-coming actor, Charlie Sheen. This movie was what got me into sports cars, driving simulations, and car chase scenes. All DMC characters and anything pertaining to them are the properties of CAPCOM.

Chapter 1

Kyrie woke with a scream lodged in her throat. Grabbing the edge of her blanket, she used it to quickly wipe her tear-streaked face as she took a deep calming breath.

It was that dream again, where she watched Nero being forcefully torn away from her. If only it would also show her the faces of his abductors.

When the dream had first appeared, Kyrie had been so terrified of what she knew she would see that she forced herself to wake up. Later on, she realized that it maybe her only way of finding out who had kidnapped and murdered her boyfriend. So, when the dream appeared once again, she gritted her teeth, steeled her backbone, and endured the horror it conveyed to her subconscious.

As disheartening as the dream was, nothing depressed Kyrie more than the knowledge that not everyone in their town believed that Nero had been murdered. Though the police found the vehicle that was supposed to have been used to dispose of his body, its evident absence from the purported crime scene had fueled doubts that the young man had indeed been killed in cold blood. Some even suggested that Nero may have finally grown tired of small town life and had decided to "strike out" on his own, leaving his long-time girlfriend behind.

Kyrie was at wits' end. Everybody else seemed to have given up on Nero, on the justice his untimely and violent death clearly deserved. The police had already placed his case in their cold case file. Even Credo, her older brother and Nero's best friend, seemed to have given up all hope. Nero's gone, and all he'd left Kyrie were bittersweet memories and a one-woman crusade to get justice served.

_What am I going to do?_

The opening strains of The Cardigans' Gran Turismo intruded into her thoughts and her heart sank even lower. That tone represented only one caller. Julian Chase.

The notorious leader of the street racing gang that had been terrorizing the town and its neighbors, Chase had been pursuing Kyrie even before Nero's disappearance. It didn't matter to him then that she was already with someone else, and it certainly didn't matter to him now that she was still in love with Nero and grieving his loss. If anything, he had only become even more aggressive in his objective to claim Kyrie his. His methods of persuasion were turning frighteningly violent, leaving her with no choice but to device ways on how to avoid him, which were easier thought of than done.

Turning off her mobile, Kyrie hurriedly got out of bed. It was a good thing that the auto-repair and sales shop where she worked as an assistant custom painter was owned by the town sheriff's family. Chase had yet to cause trouble at her workplace, knowing that the sheriff was just waiting for an excuse to arrest him. Sheriff Grayson wanted nothing more than to throw him and his gang out of town, preferably out of Fortuna, and well, Chase knows it. It's regrettable that there wasn't a stay-in option regarding her job.

Dreading what she might find waiting for her on the street, Kyrie sagged with relief upon finding the space beyond her fence empty. Intending to use the footpath situated just half-a-block away, she'd just taken a few steps towards that direction when a rarely heard of sound came up behind her, stopping her in her tracks.

Kyrie's brown eyes widened as a huge, sleek red motorcycle rolled up right in front of her. Its glossy skirts gleamed in the morning light and it seemed to purr as it idled. Intrigued, she watched its rider put the stand down before reaching up for his helmet.

Dressed entirely in black, the rider wore a long, leather duster that emphasized his broad shoulders and tall frame, a knitted shirt, leather pants, and biker boots. Kyrie caught herself wishing that his face was as fine as his body. She wasn't disappointed.

Vibrant green eyes gazed back at her from a face so gorgeous that it hurt to look. Strands of gleaming black hair fell to his cheeks and framed his incredible eyes, making them even more striking. It seemed that fate had finally seen it fit to match a gorgeous-looking bike to an equally gorgeous-looking rider.

_There might still be some justice in this world after all._

"'Morning," greeted Mr. Gorgeous-in-Black, the deep, baritone of his voice spreading heat across her chest.

Kyrie smiled in spite herself. "Good morning. That's one great-looking bike you have there."

He grinned, clearly pleased with the compliment. "Thanks," he murmured, patting the side of the bike's gas tank with a gloved hand.

A knot formed in Kyrie's chest when she noticed how his eyes lit up when he smiled. Nero used to smile at her like that.

As if sensing her sudden change in mood, a slight frown creased the rider's smooth brow. "Is something wrong?" He asked, his voice gentle.

Kyrie shook her head, though she felt like crying. Why did this stranger remind her so much of Nero?

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she braved a smile as she spoke. "So, how may I help you?"

The rider paused, concern etched on his face. His eyes roamed Kyrie's features and his lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but then he sighed and shook his head. Instead, he extended a hand towards her.

"I'm Jaden, by the way, and honestly speaking, I think I'm lost."

Kyrie laughed as she shook his hand, grateful for his attempt to lighten her mood. Her hometown was so small that a person could circumnavigate it twice in a day and still have time for a drink at the local pub. Hardly anyone ever got lost in her town.

"Kyrie. Where exactly are you headed?" She asked with a smile still tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Willow River."

So, Mr. Bodacious wanted to go for a swim. Lucky are the girls who'd see him out of those clothes.

"Just follow this road until you come to a small rock formation. You can't miss it."

"Thanks. How about you? Where are you headed?"

Kyrie sighed, starting to regret the fact that she had to go work on a Sunday. "To work, and if I don't start walking, I'll be late."

Jaden arched a brow. "You work on a Sunday?"

She was just about to retort when a flash of silver from the opposite direction made her pause.

_Damn, it's Chase!_

Gripping her bag's strap, Kyrie took a few steps away from Jaden. The last thing she needed was for him to come under the radar of Chase's jealous, malevolent interest. Thank God that he rode a bike and didn't drive a car.

"Listen, I really have to go and I suggest that you get moving, too."

Anxious to get away before Chase caught up with her in his silver Corvette, Kyrie bade Jaden a quick goodbye and hurried towards the footpath. She'd just reached it when she heard Jaden's bike roar pass her from behind, heading for the springs.

At the curb near the footpath, a Corvette ZR1 idled as its driver quietly contemplated the fate of a certain biker.

Feedback, please! Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

4

**Black Light**

Imuthis

DISCLAIMER: This work of fiction is based on the movie, The Wraith. All FFVIII characters belong to Square Enix.

Chapter Two

Jaden sat cross-legged on the dust-covered floor of his apartment. You'd think someone would have rented it out by now. However, he's not complaining. It's kind of nice to have a place to stay in, even though he didn't exactly need to sleep or eat anymore.

He smiled as he thought of the events of the day. If he still had a heart, it would have swelled with the knowledge that Kyrie still cared for him, that she had remained faithful to him after all this time. Then his green eyes narrowed as he remembered Chase.

Gritting his teeth, Jaden leapt to his feet and lashed out at the barren windows with an ethereal force, causing the glass panes to shake violently. As he stood there struggling to subdue the maddening fury that threatened to completely engulf him, he sensed another presence in the room.

Looking over his shoulder, Jaden found a pair of brightly lit headlights floating a foot or two above the floor. Long and rectangular in shape, they seemed to look at him with a cool, calculating intellect.

"Soon, my friend, very soon."

The headlights' brightness intensified for a second then faded into darkness.

"KyrieKyrieKyrie!"

Kyrie looked up from the drawing tablet she'd been working at. Only one person could make her name sound like a tongue-twister. She shook her head as she laid her stylus aside. Knowing Melissant, the girl would pester her until she had no choice but to pay attention. The last time she had tried to ignore her exuberantly cheerful friend had ended in disaster, with Kyrie re-writing a whole ledger on supply inventory after the old one had been thoroughly doused with a steaming cup of Caramel Macchiato.

With the tablet safely tucked away, Kyrie stepped out of the office only to have her arm snatched by an Energizer Bunny in a short blue dress. She was practically dragged from the office to the repair area. Once there, she understood the cause of Melissant's excitement.

Crouched next to his bike was Jaden. He'd traded in his black leather ensemble for a white T-shirt, jeans, and a pair of dark brown Lugs. He was talking to the store manager, Turner Combs, and their "motorcycle expert," Clay, who also happened to be the sheriff's nephew.

Melli gushed as she stood next to Kyrie. "Have you seen anything finer?"

"Which one, the man or the bike?"

Her friend gave her a droll stare. "The man, of course, although the bike is hot, too."

Kyrie rolled her eyes. She should have known.

Sensing that he was being watched, Jaden turned to look in their direction. The moment he saw Kyrie, his beautiful eyes instantly lit up. Excusing himself, he went directly over to her.

Melli grabbed her arm. "Oh my god, he's even hotter when he walks!"

Kyrie didn't comment. She was stunned as another memory of Nero entered her mind, one that showed him walking towards her with a predatory gait and a seductive smile lighting his angelic face.

"So, this is where you work."

Kyrie blinked as Jaden's voice intruded on her daydream. She didn't even notice that he was already standing right in front of her.

Melli gasped as she tugged at Kyrie's arm. "You know him?" At her friend's mute nod, she quickly demanded. "Introduce us!"

"Melli, Jaden. Jaden, Melli."

"Hey, Mel! Come over here, will ya?" Clay's voice rang out as he gestured for Melissant to come over to where he and Combs stood by Jaden's bike.

"Oh, pooh!" Melissant pouted, stamping her foot before walking over to the men.

Kyrie had to bite her cheek so as not to laugh as she watched her friend drag her feet. Then, feeling Jaden's eyes on her, she looked up at him.

Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the tender expression on his face as he gazed at her. It was so similar to what she used to see on Nero's face whenever she caught him watching her that she felt a chill run up her spine.

_Who are you?_

Kyrie was just about to ask him that very question when he abruptly turned away. She watched as he cocked his head to the side as if listening to something only he could hear. Then, before she knew what he was doing, Jaden cupped her cheek in his hand, kissed her on the forehead, and left.

Walking back to his bike, he said something to Combs, pulled out his wallet and handed over a thick wad of cash. He paused to look back at her before walking out of the shop.

Kyrie would have stood there in shocked silence for the rest of her life had someone not shook her with enough force to make her teeth chatter.

"Ky, Julian's coming! You gotta hide!"

All of a sudden the shop was filled with the sound of powerful revving engines. Chase's silver Corvette ZR1 was the first to arrive, followed by a red Dodge Charger Daytona. A yellow Chevrolet Camaro appeared next. Several seconds later, a black Ford Navarra pickup arrived last. The cars were parked in a precise formation, giving those watching a hint as to who the drivers were. Notably the pickup was parked on the opposite side.

Chase was the first to step out of his car. Leaving his companions behind, he immediately went into the shop, only to have Combs block his way.

"What are doing here, Chase?" asked Combs, his arms crossed over his wide, muscled chest.

The younger man spread his hands in a patronizing gesture. "Shopping, what else?"

When Combs only scowled and didn't budge, Chase sighed. Rubbing the back of his neck with a gloved hand, he bestowed the older man with an exasperated frown. "The Cutlass needs parts. Where else are we supposed to go buy them?"

His scowl deepening, Combs gestured to one of the mechanics. Though he hated the boy's guts as much as Grayson did, the young man was a paying customer and business was business.

Turning his back on Chase, Combs couldn't help noticing that Jaden's Ducati had suddenly vanished, along with Kyrie, Melissant, and Clay.

Wondering where the three of them had taken the outrageously expensive motorcycle, Combs set out to search when a sound that he hadn't heard for a very long time caught his ears. It was the sound of a finely tuned engine, so fine that instead of roaring like the cars Chase and his posse drove, it hummed like a stealth fighter's.

Hurrying back to where he'd left Chase with his mechanic, Combs was surprised to find the both of them gone. Since he didn't notice them go farther into the shop, he concluded that they must have moved outside.

Stepping out onto the parking lot, he was even more surprised to see his mechanic, Chase, and the rest of his crew staring out into the distance. The biggest guy in the group, the one he heard was called Tinny had his mouth hanging open.

His curiosity mounting, Combs walked up the middle of the path leading from the shop when he froze in mid-step.

Idling in the middle of the road like a sleek, black cat basking in the mid-day sun was one of the most exotic concept cars he'd ever seen. Its gleaming clear-lacquered body seemed to change tones as sunlight caressed its curves, and that was what caught Combs' undivided attention. There wasn't a single sharp angle in its design. The designer in him was actually dazed at the strange car's aerodynamic features.

He tried to peer through the heavily tinted windows to see its driver but the reflective tint was just too dark.

A soft hiss was heard as a spoiler slowly, almost gracefully, emerged on the edge of the car's trunk. Then, without warning, it sped off, disappearing from sight in less than a second. Later on, Combs will realize in shocked awe just how quiet the mysterious vehicle had been.

"After it!" Chase shouted before rushing to his car. A pandemonium of shouts, slamming car doors, and squealing wheels reigned over the parking lot before everything settled back down in a cloud of dust and rubber smoke.

Alerted by the noise, Clay came running out of the shop to find Combs and the mechanic sent to their knees by uncontrollable coughing fits. With the help of another mechanic, Clay helped the two men get back into the shop's cleaner air. After much back slapping, the two men were breathing well enough for him to leave them alone.

Walking back to where he had left Kyrie and Melissant with Jaden's bike, he was shocked to find Kyrie reduced to racking sobs. She had flung herself over the motorcycle and was caressing its gas tank with shaking hands.

Melissant had her hands clasped tightly to her chest. The last time she'd seen Kyrie like this was on the day her former boyfriend, Nero, had supposedly died. She was completely at a loss at how to comfort her friend.

Not wanting to upset the young woman even further, Clay slowly approached Kyrie. Placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, he peeked at the object she had been touching. What he saw made the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

Mounted just above the gas valve was a gold and pink pendant in the shape of an angel. It was something Clay had never expected to see again, since it was supposed to have been buried six feet under two years ago.

It was Kyrie's beloved pendant, a gift from Nero, which she had placed in his cold, lifeless hands before he was lowered to his grave.


	3. Chapter 3

4

**Black Light**

Imuthis

DISCLAIMER: This work of fiction is based on the movie, The Wraith. All DMC characters belong to CAPCOM.

Chapter Three

Darkness has fallen. A lone pair of headlights traversed the long curving asphalt road leading out to the outskirts of Fortuna. There was not a single light post along its entire length and, in the gloom, the twin lights looked like specters moving with great urgency towards a destination only they would truly know.

Some distance away, on a hilltop, stood a solitary figure. Standing behind the open door of a black Cherokee Jeep, he held a set of night-vision binoculars which he trained on the deserted highway below.

Fortuna County Sheriff Keith Grayson was waiting for the tell-tale presence of illegal street racers. Despite their absence in recent weeks, the sheriff had made it a point to regularly check on the area. He knew for a fact that not all racing events in his town were willingly participated in. However, that seemed about to change.

Turner Combs, an old friend and the store manager of his family's auto repair and sales shop, had called that afternoon to relate a strange incident that had happened just beyond the shop's parking lot. A mysterious automobile of unknown origin and model had appeared before Julian Chase and his gang, who had supposedly gone to the shop to purchase some parts. It had sat idling in the middle of the road, under the burning midday sun for several seconds, then, it sped off to disappear from sight almost instantaneously. Chase and crew went after it in a rush, their purported purchase abruptly forgotten.

"Personally, my friend, I think its driver was flaunting his ride." Combs had said.

"Was it worth flaunting?" Asked Grayson, thinking the driver was either stupid or suicidal.

"Absolutely."

Now that response had surprised the sheriff. When it came to automobiles, there's very little in this world that could impress his friend but judging from the tone of Combs' voice, he was very impressed indeed.

"Too bad I didn't get to see it."

Combs had laughed, "You probably would, and soon, too. That is, if Chase and his friends could catch it."

"You think they won't?"

"No."

Grayson had frowned then. In his book, that would mean only one thing – trouble. Big. Trouble. It's as if he didn't already have more than enough on his plate from Chase's gang.

So, here he was, on a hilltop in the middle of a cold, deserted highway shrouded in darkness waiting for something that might not even register on his speed radar.

He sighed, wondering if he shouldn't just go home to his wife and the delicious, hot meal she has undoubtedly prepared for him. Yeah, family life sure was sweet. It's his job that was beginning to suck and all because a bunch of hormonal teenagers couldn't be content with doing stuff other teenagers commonly do, like laze around in their small town mall.

Deciding to finally call it a night, Grayson panned the binoculars along the length of the highway one last time, in case he got lucky… or unlucky.

He was just zooming off an outcrop of boulders to his right when a pinpoint of light appeared from right behind it. Increasing the lenses' magnification, he discovered that it was actually a pair of headlights moving steadily closer to where he was, and they were closing in fast, real fast.

Grayson jogged down to the foot of the hill, right on the roadside. He needed to get a closer look. He knew well enough that he could never chase it down, as fast as it was moving. At least, by knowing what it looked like, he'll know what to look for when the need arose.

Low-slung halogens and incredible speed easily gave it away as the kind of car he'd been waiting to see all night – a racer. Yet, something about it bothered him.

It was quiet, too quiet. As close as it was now, he should already hear it roaring. There was also the disconcerting fact that even with the aid of the binoculars, he can't seem to see the rest of its body.

Too quiet and seemingly transparent… _What the hell?_

Grayson thought back to the phone conversation with Combs that morning. The strange car that had appeared before Chase's gang had also been oddly quiet, yet impressively fast.

It didn't add up. As far as he knew, fast cars tend to make a lot of noise. Some car owners would even intentionally remove their cars' mufflers so that they would sound loud, even when the cars weren't originally designed to be loud.

"As quiet as a church on a Monday." Ward muttered under his breath.

Suddenly, his eyes widened as he remembered something important – the LIDAR speed gun lying on top of his SUV's dashboard. He sprinted back to the Jeep, grabbed the radar and rushed back to the roadside only to find the road completely deserted.

Focusing the binoculars in the direction he believed the car was coming from, Grayson frowned when he couldn't see anything. There was absolutely nothing out there.

The car, or whatever that was, had vanished and he didn't even hear it pass him. Scratching his head, he sighed.

"Damn it, to think I was so close." Grayson thought as he trudged back up to the parked SUV. Casting a last wistful glance in the direction the car would have disappeared to, he got in and drove home.

The next day, he went to see Combs as soon as the shop opened. He didn't get much sleep as he kept thinking of the strange occurrences of the previous night.

As soon as he walked in, his eyes were immediately drawn to the huge, blazing red motorbike standing in the middle of the repair and custom area. Giving a low, appreciative whistle, he quickly walked up to it for a closer look.

Minutes later, he heard Combs' voice near his right shoulder. "A beauty, isn't she?"

He nodded in awe. "She sure is."

When Grayson finally turned to face his friend, Combs was visibly taken aback by the dark shadows circling his eyes. The sheriff looked like he hadn't slept in ages.

"What happened to you?" Combs asked in alarm.

Grayson rubbed a large hand over his tired eyes as he spoke, "Can't sleep."

Combs arched a brow at his words. Keith having trouble sleeping? Yeah, right. Yet, as he carefully studied his friend's face and the droop in his shoulders, he clearly saw the poor man's exhaustion. Something was definitely bothering him.

"Come," He clapped Grayson on the back, "let's step into the office and talk about it before the shop gets busy."

An hour and a half later, Grayson was sitting on the office couch, his head in his hands, as he suffered a head-splitting migraine, while Combs, who sat on a nearby office chair, felt like he was going to have a migraine as well.

Minutes passed before Combs broke the silence, his tone heavily laced with doubt and concern.

"Are you absolutely sure? I mean, you may have just missed it."

Grayson sighed heavily as he pressed the heels of his palms against his throbbing temples. "As sure as my brains are about to spill out of my head, yeah, I'm absolutely sure. Damn, this is even worse than a hang-over!"

Combs frowned, but didn't comment.

Loud, frantic knocking sounded on the door. Combs rose to answer it. He'd hardly opened the door a crack when Melissant came running in, wearing an absurdly bright red button up shirt and white jeans. The poor sheriff barely had time to close his highly sensitive eyes.

"Boss! Chief! You guys are not going to believe this!" The young woman squeaked in a nervous rush. "One of Chase's friends was found dead!"

Grayson shot to his feet, his headache instantly forgotten. "What did you say?!" He roared, making everyone else jump.

Before Melissant could respond, his mobile rang. Grayson pulled it off of his belt and answered. "Grayson here. Talk."

Combs and Melissant watched as Grayson listened to his caller. Both their eyes widened when the man's face blanched. Then, the call ended, and he stood there staring out into space, the phone clutched in his right hand, seemingly forgotten.

"Keith." Combs prompted.

Grayson shook himself, rubbed his free hand over his face. He pulled his hat off, put it back on, then rubbed his tired eyes with his fingers. His two-person audience exchanged uncertain looks.

Finally, he sighed. "The girl," he nodded towards Melissant, "is right. Paulie, a member of the Chase gang, is dead. A friend of his, Miggs, said that he went racing last night, and never showed up again. They looked for him and the car he supposedly raced against but found neither of them 'cause it was too dark. A group of hikers found the boy early this morning."

Stunned silence filled the room as its occupants considered the implications of this unexpected news.

Combs shook his head. "This is bad, Keith. We've never had a race-related death before. Injuries and totals aplenty, but death? Never."

Grayson nodded grimly, then pointed to a bulletin board hanging on the far wall. "Is that thing operational?"

Combs followed Grayson's finger, then scowled. The "thing" the sheriff was pointing at was a photo of his highly priced CAT crane. Stashed away in a secret location, it was powerful enough to lift an 18-wheeler truck to a height of almost 15-stories. Why he owned such a piece of heavy equipment was a mystery.

"Yeah, it is. Why?"

"I need it."

Combs crossed his arms over his chest and gave his friend a stony gaze. "_Why_?"

Grayson sighed. Combs could really be stubborn sometimes.

Placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, he pushed him over to a corner where he could speak to him with more privacy. He threw a glower over his shoulder at Melissant just in case she intended to eavesdrop. Seeing the glare, she quickly averted her eyes and moved away.

_Good girl. _

"I need the crane because the boy's body was found in his car which had fallen into a ravine."

Combs paled at the words.

"That sounds eerily familiar."

Again, Grayson nodded grimly. "I know."

A/N: Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thanks.


End file.
